


just ask next time (please)

by alateni



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Wonhui as a side relationship, established wonhui, even tho technically there's more wonhui than gyuhao-, i don't usually tag side relationships tho 'cause the main focus is gyuhao, seungcheol is mentioned, slight mention of death but nothing angsty i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 09:58:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alateni/pseuds/alateni
Summary: Mingyu has a bad track record of... well, staying alive. Chalking it up to bad luck and his own clumsiness, Mingyu never imagined in a million years that the real reason behind it all was simpler than expected.Alternatively: Mingyu is a clumsy fellow but, plot twist, there's a method to his clumsiness.





	just ask next time (please)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [were1993](https://archiveofourown.org/users/were1993/gifts).



> For my lovely friend, [Liz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/were1993/pseuds/were1993). You were having a bad day and I wanted to cheer you up somehow so I wrote this instead of sleeping/doing homework but I don't regret it. Sorry it's kind of late/might not be relevant anymore.
> 
> For anyone else having a bad day, week, or time - I hope this takes your mind off things and reminds you that there's always someone out there looking after you, whether you realize it or not.

“ _Again_?” Mingyu winces at the disapproving tone in Jisoo’s voice. The boy can do nothing, merely shrug and smile awkwardly as Jisoo sighs. Kicking his legs softly against the edge of Jisoo’s kitchen counter, Mingyu watches as Jisoo walks into the other room – probably to grab his supplies. On the other side of the kitchen, Jeonghan watches with amusement. The older man is munching on something he had grabbed from Jisoo’s pantry earlier, obviously feeling at home in Jisoo’s space. Mingyu, on the other hand, feels on edge. No matter how many times he found himself in this same situation, he could never feel at ease like Jeonghan could. Then again, they were on different sides of the scenario.

“What happened this time?” Jisoo asks as he walks back in, carrying a black bag. Putting it on the table, the older male looks over at Jeonghan, disapproving gaze evident on his face, but does nothing when Jeonghan gives him a little wave.

“I,” Mingyu wets his mouth, “fell.”

“Down two flights of stairs,” Jeonghan adds. “I’m surprised he didn’t land on his head or something.”

“Mingyu has really good luck,” Jisoo replies, opening the bag. “Good thing you only escaped with a couple of minor scratches and bruises. I’m surprised you didn’t break or sprain anything.”

“I’m not lucky,” Mingyu whines, flailing his legs a little. It causes him to hit his ankle against the counter – hard. The bruise forming just above his Achilles’ heel causes a flare of pain to shoot through his leg. “If I was lucky I wouldn’t be falling down everywhere.”

“That’s true,” Jisoo sighs, getting to work. It paid off, Mingyu reflects as Jisoo softly wets a cotton ball with antiseptic, to have friends in nursing. They could always help you when you got hurt – though Mingyu wasn’t thinking about that when he first ran into Jisoo.

“Maybe the world is trying to tell you something,” Jeonghan theorises, coming closer. He smacks his lips together, brushing his hands onto his shirt and causing a couple of crumbs to fall on the floor. Jisoo acts like he doesn’t see it – but Mingyu can feel the tensing of his hands. “Maybe you weren’t meant to be alive and now it’s trying to take you back.”

“That’s mean,” Jisoo sighs, patting Mingyu’s thigh. “Bring your shirt up,” Jisoo instructs before inspecting the scratches on Mingyu’s ribs. “How did you get these?”

“I hit the side of the stairs at the very bottom,” Mingyu answers. “I think.”

“You sure you didn’t suffer any head trauma?” Jeonghan leans closer, tapping Mingyu’s head. “Hello? Anyone in there?”

“Jeonghan if you aren’t going to help, you can _leave_ ,” Jisoo grits his teeth, giving the other boy a glare. Jeonghan whistles easily though, smirking at Jisoo’s annoyance. “Thank you,” Jisoo says, though he doesn’t seem like he means it, when Jeonghan backs off and leans against the fridge instead.

“Do you think,” Mingyu muses, a couple of minutes later. Jisoo has him all bandaged up now, and is inspecting his abdomen for any signs of internal bleeding and what not. Mingyu wasn’t a nursing student – there was a reason he didn’t make it into the sciences. “Do you think someone’s after me?”

“Are you implying that you are important enough for someone to hire a hitman to kill you?” Jeonghan asks. “Because I have your answer – no. You’re not significant enough for someone to want to murder you.”

“Well isn’t that reassuring,” Mingyu frowns. “But that’s not what I was getting at.”

“Whatever it is,” Jisoo says, pulling Mingyu’s shirt back down for him. “It’s kind of annoying. Your guardian angel has their work cut out for them.”

“Again?” Jeonghan snorts. “Guardian angels don’t exist Shua.”

“That’s what you think,” Jisoo rolls his eyes. “I know better.” Jeonghan groans, and Mingyu gets the feeling that this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation. Before he can ask about it though, Jeonghan gets a phone call and walks out of the room. Jisoo eyes him, as if he didn’t trust the other boy to be alone in his house, before turning to Mingyu. “Try to not run into anything and damage these wounds anymore will you? As much as it’s nice to get practice, I’m not exactly pleased with having to stitch you back up every week.”

“Yes sir,” Mingyu chirps. Maybe he should be more concerned about everything, but this wasn’t the first time it had happened. And Mingyu has a feeling it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Ever since Mingyu could remember, he was unlucky. Clumsy, his mother had called it. From running into poles to falling over nothing, Mingyu was not the most coordinated individual. It was a wonder then, that he had actually made it this far without dying. Actually, that was a lie. Well, the first part at least. This didn’t used to happen to Mingyu when he was younger. In fact, if the boy could trace back his history of bad luck, it would have to have started years ago – after he came back from his trip to China.

Mingyu had been twelve at the time, ecstatic and excited beyond belief to explore a foreign country. His sister? Not as happy. He had to deal with her musing and lamenting about all the plans their parents had ruined because of the trip – not like she had much to do that summer anyways. Mingyu knew both of her best friends were going on trips – one to Jeju and the other to America – so it was all for show. But she had been in that stage of her life, where everything was dramatic and the world was against her. Mingyu remembered those days (was still in it, kind of) – he didn’t miss them. Not at all.

In any case, Mingyu was happy to be leaving Korea. He had friends, it’s not like he hated his life. It’s just that this was the first family vacation he had been on since he was six. It had been a while since his whole family got time off together, and so Mingyu was a happy camper. That is, until they got to China.

Mingyu remembers it quite clearly, the first time he set foot in the Chinese airport – because that was the beginning of his demise. He had been star struck, amazed by the different yet familiar characters detailing the boards and signs – so much so that he wasn’t looking at where he was going. As such, he ended up slipping down a flight of stairs. Mingyu doesn’t remember the next part, at least, his story doesn’t match his mom’s. What his mom saw was this: Mingyu wandered off, slipped on some water and fell down the stairs. The boy immediately went unconscious, having suffered a head wound when he landed on the bottom. Mingyu was then rushed to the hospital, where the doctor told them it wasn’t as bad as it looked, and that, after running some tests, Mingyu wouldn’t sustain any permanent head trauma. Mingyu did, however, spend the rest of the trip with a slight concussion – putting a damper on any fun things he could’ve done.

The only thing is, his mother never mentioned one small part of the memory. Something that ingrained itself in Mingyu’s mind forever. He had told his father about it once, two years after the incident, only for the man to chalk it up to his concussion.

“You were hallucinating,” his father had said, “it wasn’t real.” But it felt real, and Mingyu knew, at the very core of his heart, that it _had_ been real.

He had been awake when he reached the bottom landing of the stairs. Sure, things were fuzzy and his vision was swimming, but he was conscious. He could hear his mother screaming, the quiet sobs of his sister. He could feel his father walk up to him and cautiously check to see if he was still breathing. He could even hear other people shouting in Mandarin – probably for a doctor or an ambulance. Between all the confusion though, Mingyu saw one thing very clearly. A shadowy figure stood in front of him, just far enough away that Mingyu couldn’t see his face, but close enough that Mingyu saw that he wasn’t much taller than himself. The figure looked unsure of itself, and though its black hood hid its features, Mingyu could tell it was hesitating.

Finally, the figure walked closer. Or at least, that’s all Mingyu could understand. It’s more like the thing floated – but not in a ghostly way. More specifically, the figure didn’t appear to move, it just looked as if its surroundings moved _around_ it, causing it to almost pull nearer to Mingyu. Now that it was closer, Mingyu could start making out some features of its face. There was a nose, dark hair, and even more chillingly, black eyes. Mingyu wanted to run, to scream, to hide – but he couldn’t move. He was swimming in and out of consciousness at this point, and so all he could do was focus on the being in front of him.

The figure reached out, and Mingyu felt the cold chill from its fingers even though it didn’t directly touch him. Before the figure could caress Mingyu’s face however, he was jolted away. There was a sharp pain in his chest, almost like he was being anchored down. Looking down, Mingyu saw the figure startle back out of the corer of his eye. On his chest, Mingyu saw a soft, glowing light. It swarmed around him, before settling into Mingyu’s body. Though Mingyu couldn’t see it anymore, he felt warm – comforted. Like everything was going to be okay.

Remembering the figure, Mingyu looked up to see the figure moving away. It seemed hesitant though, as if not fully wanting to leave. Curious now that he felt okay, Mingyu reached forward, only for the figure to pull back suddenly. The movement caused its hood to fall, revealing the features of a teenage boy. It was different though, the boy’s ears were too sharp, eyes were too dark – his features seemed almost dark in a way, a contrast to the bright pink of his cheeks. Mingyu couldn’t process it, as confused and befuddled as he was, but before he could do anything about it, he felt someone – the paramedic he found out later on – wrap his body onto a board. The paramedics lifted him up, causing the other boy to slip out of his view. Mingyu tried to crane his neck to look back, but found he couldn’t due to the board (“in case you had a spinal injury” his mom explained to him after he woke up). After that, Mingyu lost consciousness in the ambulance and never saw the boy again.

Ever since that incident though, Mingyu found that his luck had left him. Of course, Mingyu had always been a clumsy child – he had been kicked out of the kitchen ever since he could walk in fact, but Mingyu had never been _this_ clumsy. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be just a bad spell of luck. Ever since the summer of his eighth year, Mingyu continued to fall, break, and stumble his way through life. Like Jeonghan said, it was a miracle that he was still alive. And honestly? Honestly, sometimes Mingyu felt like something was out to get him – for whatever reason.

 

“It happened again?” Junhui asks, leaning closer to inspect the scar on Mingyu’s face. Mingyu sighs, throwing himself onto the chair beside Junhui and nods, whining softly. Junhui giggles a little at that, before moving closer and pushing Mingyu’s hair away from his face. “What happened this time? Your other wounds were just healing up this time too.”

Mingyu pokes at Junhui’s cheek, effectively causing the pout on his face to turn into a small smile. Mingyu doesn’t remember how Junhui and him became friends. Something about how Junhui heard Mingyu went to China once and immediately latched onto him after transferring to his high school in their last year. Ever since, they were inseparable. According to the majority of the university population, they were a dream team. From looks to talents to personalities, the two of them apparently, “had it all” – leading them to be dubbed the Golden Pair. A little uncreative in Mingyu’s opinion, but a little gossip like that wasn’t hurting anyone so he let it be.

Junhui on the other hand, enjoyed it. It amused him, apparently. He liked to sidle up close to Mingyu whenever they were in public, exaggerating his normally clingy and affectionate ways, and causing multiple people to whisper and point whenever they were together. Mingyu had asked him before, wondering why Junhui took to the whole Golden Pair thing so much, but he hadn’t received a straight answer. Instead, Junhui grinned, looking past Mingyu and waved at something behind him, before shrugging and pulling Mingyu away to class. When Mingyu turned around to see what Junhui had waved at, all he saw was an empty room.

“Mingyu?” Junhui waves his hands in front of Mingyu’s face.

“Oh, sorry,” Mingyu shakes his head. “I slipped in a puddle on my way to campus this morning.” Mingyu points at the dark spot on his pants, caused by rainwater. It had rained heavily that morning, though it luckily stopped before Mingyu left the house. Apparently though, Mingyu’s luck couldn’t even last long enough from him to get to school. The boy had slipped on a particularly wet piece of concrete right across the street from campus – causing him to faceplant into the street. His only saving graces were the lack of cars and his fast reflexes.

“Unfortunate,” Junhui coos, patting Mingyu’s cheek adoringly. The boy then turns his head slightly, letting his gaze travel from Mingyu’s face to beyond the taller male’s shoulder. Confused, Mingyu tries to turn to follow Junhui’s gaze but is interrupted when Junhui pulls Mingyu forwards into a hug. “My poor baby, always running into trouble. It’s almost like _something_ wants to SEE YOU AGAIN.”

“Why are you yelling?” Mingyu blinks, leaning back from Junhui’s hug. “And why are you always looking behind me?”

“I’m not?” Junhui says sheepishly, though his statement sounds more like a question.

“You are,” Mingyu’s eyebrows furrow. “This is the fourth time this week you’ve done that.”

“Oh, would you look at the time,” Junhui flutters his eyelashes, fanning himself like a dramatic female protagonist. “I’m going to be late for class.” Standing up, Junhui throws his books into his bag. Taking one look at Mingyu’s confused yet determined face, Junhui decides to risk his chances and bolts out of the building.

“Junhui!” Mingyu’s mouth drops open, perplexed by his friend’s actions. Regardless, Mingyu shoots up as well, grabbing his bag and running after the Chinese male. This time he would get answers. Junhui was always eluding his questions – from looking at things that didn’t seem to be there to talking to imaginary people, Mingyu had caught Junhui doing weird things once too many times. There had to be a reason behind Junhui’s behaviour, and this time he wasn’t going to take the standard “that’s just who I am!” for an answer.

Chasing after the lithe boy, Mingyu barrels through the doors of the building. Running down the steps, Mingyu slides a bit as he turns the corner. Spotting Junhui ahead of him, Mingyu picks up speed, not wanting to lose the other man. Even though Junhui said he didn’t like to exercise, that didn’t mean he wasn’t athletic. Mingyu wasn’t letting his guard down.

“Hey!” Mingyu tries, getting closer. Junhui turns around to look at him, eyes widening at the distance between them, before turning back around and increasing speed. Mingyu grunts under his breath, bag weighing heavily on his shoulders, but speeds up as well. As he approaches the street crossing, Mingyu watches as Junhui makes it to the other side successfully. Not wanting to lose him in the crowd across the street, Mingyu lunges forwards – only to realize that the traffic lights had changed.

Mingyu feels it rather than sees it happen. There’s a change in temperature around him, a freezing sensation. Rather than the whole slowing down time thing that the movies talk about, it feels more like Mingyu can’t move. He first feels his foot slip, the roads still wet from the morning rain. His ankle twists in a way that is definitely not normal, and Mingyu can feel his previous momentum leading him forwards. The ground comes up, though Mingyu doesn’t feel himself falling. Before he hits the ground, he hears a sound – a car probably, honking its horn and trying to swerve away. It’s too late, the driver wasn’t paying attention and had floored it the minute they saw the light turn green. No one was expecting someone to just randomly dash out onto the street – not even Mingyu.

Mingyu can see the light from the car even though his eyes are closed. He’s not sure when he closed them, but he does know that he’s currently bracing for impact. There’s a scream, maybe two in the air, and suddenly, Mingyu is reminded of that time in the airport. This time though, nothing else happens. There’s no impact, no pain. He can’t even feel the twist in his ankle anymore. All he feels is warm, yet chilled on the outside. Like a piece of meat being defrosted.

“Hey,” a soft voice whispers into Mingyu’s ear, making him shiver in delight. It was warm, like the feeling you get when you lay on the grass on a warm day. “Open your eyes,” the voice insists, though Mingyu just wants to sigh contentedly and fall asleep. The voice was deep, soothing – the kind of voice you’d probably hear on one of those phone sex lines – if they even operated anymore.

“Open your eyes Mingyu,” another voice pipes up. Mingyu recognizes that voice, it was Junhui.

With a gasp of air, Mingyu’s eyelids shoot open. Above him is a bright light, shining almost too harshly against Mingyu’s eyes. He gasps for air, blinking rapidly before the room swims into focus. It was Junhui’s bedroom. Mingyu had been in here more often than not – he could probably draw it from memory if he wanted to. Sitting up, Mingyu looks around the room. There’s Junhui, sitting on the bed with him and tugging at some stray threads from his jeans. And beside Mingyu, sitting on a chair and looking absolutely ethereal, is another male dressed in white. There’s a soft, shining glow coming from the other male’s head, and if Mingyu squints hard enough, he thinks he can see a halo.

“Hello?” Mingyu tries, voice raspy and gravelly.

“Mingyu!” Junhui cheers, lunging forwards to hug Mingyu. The boy grimaces, preparing himself for pain, but none appears. Opening his eyes, Mingyu shoves Junhui off of him – the other boy falls onto the bed with a whine – and looks down. Examining his body, Mingyu can’t see a single wound. Not even from his fall down the stairs a week ago. Sure, Jisoo was a good nurse, but not even he could make wounds disappear.

“I healed you,” the voice speaks up again, and Mingyu almost gets whiplash from how quickly he turns to look at the boy sitting beside the bed. “Per Junnie’s request.”

“Junnie?” Mingyu blinks. “Who?”

“You don’t remember me?” Junhui gasps dramatically. He leans backwards, one hand on his forehead as he wails almost comically. “This is terrible!”

“I meant who are _you_ ,” Mingyu gestures towards the man dressed in white, completely used to Junhui’s ways. The Chinese male pouts, sensing that no one was giving him attention, before crawling over and promptly plopping down onto the stranger’s lap.

“This is Jeon Wonwoo,” Junhui declares. “My boyfriend and your guardian angel.”

“My what now,” Mingyu blanks. Before he can stop himself, he reaches down and pinches himself in the thigh. It hurts more than he thought it would, and Mingyu flinches at his own strength.

“Guardian angel,” Wonwoo echoes, arms wrapping around Junhui’s waist. The guardian angel – Mingyu still has to process this – pulls Junhui up, arranging him so that he fit more comfortably on his lap. “I’ve been looking after you ever since you were a fetus.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says intelligently. “Thanks?”

“Thanks doesn’t even cover it!” Junhui wiggles in the spot, itching to reach out and cuddle with Mingyu too. The boy had always been a little needy. “You know how much work you’ve put my Wonton under? Too much!”

“It’s my job babe,” Wonwoo mumbles, nuzzling Junhui’s neck not unlike a cat. Mingyu blinks, not sure what he was witnessing. Why did Junhui have a guardian angel as a boyfriend anyways?

“Because,” Junhui starts, winking when Mingyu flushes at having spoken out loud. “I’m a shaman!”

“Like… like Shaman King?” Mingyu asks.

“He’s not very smart, is he?” Wonwoo mutters into Junhui’s hair.

“You should know, he’s _your_ charge,” Junhui replies, laughing lightly and patting Wonwoo’s hand.

“I’m right here you know,” Mingyu grumbles, shifting on the bed. He feels uncomfortable, as if he was interrupting Junhui’s and Wonwoo’s private moment. Which, he realizes now, he probably had always done. Considering Wonwoo was apparently Mingyu’s guardian angel, and that Junhui was a shaman meaning he could see spirits and such, Mingyu had most possibly always been in the way whenever the two of them wanted to talk or do whatever couple-y things they thought were appropriate. “How did you guys even start dating?”

“Well,” Junhui clears his throat. “After meeting you I noticed you were always escaping death left and right. So, I thought it was kind of interesting – no other spirits I’ve talked to have done that before. That’s also another reason why I became your friend,” Junhui grins sheepishly when Mingyu gives him a betrayed look. “I learned to love you though! I didn’t intend to use you I swear!”

“Sure,” Mingyu replies, not completely convinced.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Junhui throws, and laughs when Mingyu immediately perks up. “Pork belly?” Junhui asks, and nods when Mingyu gives him a thumbs up. “Alright, so, where was I?”

“You became interested in Mingyu,” Wonwoo prompts, tapping his fingers against Junhui’s abdomen absentmindedly.

“Right,” Junhui continues. “So, I tailed you and hung out with you – whatever you want to call it. That’s when I began to notice two things. One was this man right here,” Junhui pats Wonwoo’s thigh affectionately. “I knew he was your guardian angel when I first saw him – I’m used to seeing that kind of thing. But I guess he wasn’t used to being recognized, so the first time I approached him, he ran.” Wonwoo grunts at that, colouring slightly and hiding his face behind Junhui’s head.

“It was back when you tried to help the drama club,” Junhui reminisces. “And the background prop fell on you. Wonwoo jumped out right in time and dragged you away – but you still ended up with a broken leg. At the hospital I snuck away and found him watching out from outside, and when I spoke up he looked like a spooked kitten! It was adorable,” Junhui sighs, and Mingyu can practically see the hearts in his eyes. “But yeah, after that, I always talked to Wonwoo after he saved you. After a while, I helped him keep you out of trouble and then we ended up talking more whenever you ended up in the hospital or were being treated by Jisoo and that led us to where we are now.”

“Huh,” Mingyu tilts his head, watching as Wonwoo and Junhui exchange shy yet loving looks. “That’s nice. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Wonwoo coughs. “Though it still feels weird to be dating my charge’s best friend.”

“Hush you,” Junhui rolls his eyes. “We’ve been over this. And I haven’t exactly been distracting you from your job or anything so it all works out in the end.”

“Wait,” Mingyu says before Wonwoo can respond. He furrows his eyebrows, still trying to comprehend Junhui’s words. “Didn’t you say you noticed two things when you started to hang out with me?”

“Oh right,” Junhui giggles. An impish glint appears in his eyes, and before Mingyu can do anything, Junhui is cackling maniacally.

“Babe,” Wonwoo taps Junhui’s side. “Stop that, it’s scaring him.”

“Sorry,” Junhui hiccups, trying to contain his laughter. “Okay, so yeah, I noticed two things. One of which, was Wonton. But Mingyu, haven’t you always wondered why you have such bad luck?”

“Only every day,” Mingyu rolls his eyes. “But you know this, I told you.”

“Exactly, which is why I was able to piece things together!” Junhui cheers, wriggling a little. Wonwoo winces when Junhui accidentally elbows him in the side, and manages to get the shaman to calm down and continue his explanation.

“You see, remember when you went to China?” Mingyu nods. “That’s when it all started. Did you see anything, unusual there?” Mingyu hesitates. The last time he had told someone about this, he had been dismissed and had to explain to his mother that he didn’t need to see a therapist. Then again, Mingyu also wasn’t in the presence of his own guardian angel back then.

“I, did… see something,” Mingyu coughs, wetting his lips. “A black figure appeared. He was going to touch me but something warm anchored me down and then he disappeared when I got into the ambulance.”

“I _knew_ it,” Junhui grins.

“Love,” Wonwoo chides, “explanations require sentences.”

“Right,” Junhui comes back to earth. “Well, my friend, what if I told you that the person you saw that day was in fact, real – and not a figment of your imagination?” Mingyu tilts his head to the side, confusion written all over his face.

“You know what, it’s easier to just show you,” Junhui decides before Mingyu can get a word in. “Hey! Minghao! Come in here!”

There’s some shuffling. Mingyu can hear someone bumping into the wall right outside the room, and Junhui laughs. Wonwoo seems amused too – neither of them look slightly concerned that there’s someone standing outside of the room. At least, that’s what Mingyu assumes is happening. That or there’s a large animal (maybe a bear?) outside the door and they’re all going to die. Which, knowing Mingyu’s luck, isn’t completely implausible.

Instead of a bear, the door opens and a figure stumbles through. He’s not dressed in black this time, well, not quite. His clothes are still of the darker shades, but he’s not wearing the cloak Mingyu had seen him in when they first met. Instead, he’s wearing dark skinny jeans and a black long-sleeve shirt. There’s another shirt on top of that, a dark grey one that flows down to the boy’s knees, and somehow – he makes it work. It should look tacky, like a half-assed Halloween costume. Instead, it makes him look like a model, accentuating his long, slender legs and lean muscles. Mingyu thinks he can hear his heart drop.

“Uh,” the boy coughs, fidgeting awkwardly. His fingers dance along the cloth of his shirt, pulling at the stretchy material. It looks ripped, but fashionably so. Mingyu can’t get over this boy’s clothes. Scratch that, Mingyu’s mouth dries as he looks up and spies a familiar face, Mingyu can’t get over this _boy_.

“Mingyu, this is Minghao,” Junhui introduces. “He’s a, what you’d call an angel of death I guess. He works for King Yan, also known as the god of the death. That explains some things huh?”

“Uh, what?” Mingyu splutters, still caught up in examining the features of the other boy (spirit?). Minghao fidgets under Mingyu’s gaze, as if he was unfamiliar with the feeling of being _seen_. The movements cause Mingyu to notice the earrings littering the boy’s ears, and Mingyu suddenly has a desire to touch them.

“Minghao,” Wonwoo starts, “is one of the many spirits that arrive whenever someone is about to die. He’s kind of like the counterpart to guardian angels, there to guide spirits to the Underworld and what not. Not quite the grim reaper, more like a guide than someone who steals your soul and causes death.”

“Oh,” Mingyu blinks, “but how does… how does that relate to me?”

“The stupid spirit has had a crush on you ever since you almost died back in China and has been unknowingly causing near-death experiences around you because he keeps trying to get closer to you,” Junhui finally reveals, leaning back into Wonwoo’s embrace, as if the very thought tired him out. Maybe he should stop hanging out with the drama club kids so much.

“I wasn’t!” Minghao flushes, his pale face taking on a startlingly deep red colour. “That’s not it.” Minghao fumbles, biting his lip. Mingyu’s eyes follow the movement, watching as Minghao notices his gaze. The two make eye contact, and suddenly a cold chill makes its way through Mingyu’s body. It’s different, yet familiar – kind of like the opposite of Wonwoo’s healing warmth. This one spoke of misfortune, but at the same time, guidance. As if Minghao was there to comfort Mingyu. Which, in a way, made sense. If Minghao was to help people find their way to the Underworld, then he’d also have to deal with mourning. Mingyu was sure that instead of seeming like the demons most people thought of them as, Minghao and his fellow spirits were a lot kinder than society painted them. After all, dealing with loss and accepting death was something only the most emotionally mature people could do.

“So,” Mingyu slowly pieces things together. “You’re the reason why I’ve almost died like… almost a million times now?”

“Not intentionally,” Minghao mumbles, crossing his arms. He seems shy now, and the very sight of it makes Mingyu’s heart beat faster. “I just wanted to visit you, I didn’t realize that my presence caused… well, death.”

“It’s a good thing Wonton’s so good at his job,” Junhui chirps. Wonwoo pats Junhui’s bottom for the compliment, causing the other boy to squirm happily – much like a kitten being rewarded with pets.

“Couldn’t you have just… you know… asked?” Mingyu states.

“What?” Minghao’s eyes widen. He looks as confused as Mingyu had felt only moments ago, and something about the expression makes Mingyu want to both hug him and kiss him.

“Like, just came up to me and said hi?” Mingyu replies. “All, ‘hey you seem cool want to hang out?’ or whatever?”

“But,” Minghao’s eyes furrow, “isn’t that weird? I’m a spirit? And not only that, I’m a spirit of death! Isn’t that like, kind of scary or something?”

“You don’t,” Mingyu examines Minghao’s skinny frame. “Look particularly scary.” Junhui snorts. Minghao glares.

“Well if I’d known you’d take this so well I would’ve skipped past almost killing you every day,” Minghao sticks his nose in the air. Mingyu guesses he’s supposed to feel offended, but all he can feel is a soft fondness growing ever more in his heart.

“So,” Mingyu wets his lips, unsure of how to continue. He wasn’t sure how to process everything that had happened within the last thirty minutes actually. All he knew was that things were finally making sense now. “Do you have a phone?”

“A _phone_?” Minghao twirls around and stares at Mingyu like he’s insane. The lower tendrils of his shirt swirl around him, much like a personal whirlwind. Mingyu suspects he’ll never stop thinking of Minghao as anything other than gracefully beautiful.

“Yeah, so next time you want to talk to me I can just text you or something,” Mingyu answers. “Isn’t that more convenient than making me fall down a flight of stairs?”

“I told you this would turn out well,” Junhui hums as Minghao blushes. Minghao glares at the shaman, muttering something under his breath that causes Junhui to pout, before reaching into his clothes and pulling out a phone. Tossing it at Mingyu, Minghao crosses his arms, as if unsatisfied with the whole ordeal. Beneath the scowl though, Mingyu detects a hint of excitement. It makes him smile as he puts his number into the spirit’s phone and texts himself.

“I don’t know, last time when you told Jisoo about his guardian angel the boy almost had a stroke,” Wonwoo retorts. Junhui frowns at that.

“Who was I to know that Jisoo talks to himself all the time? Not my fault if he admits all his dirty secrets in the shower and that Seungcheol just so happened to be listening,” Junhui replies. “Anyways, they made up and now and are best of friends. So, everything worked out well in the end!”

Wonwoo shrugs, content with letting Junhui be happy in his own little world. Mingyu finds himself smiling at that, admiring how easy going their relationship was. Mingyu had always found it odd how Junhui never got into a relationship – especially since he was adored by many. Now it made sense. It was kind of endearing actually, how Junhui snuggled so close to Wonwoo. Truly a match made in heaven, pardon the pun.

Turning away from the couple, Mingyu flashes Minghao one of his signature smiles – canines and all. The spirit busies himself with his phone (which Mingyu had given back), but the human can see the slight pink tint of Minghao’s ears. Muttering to himself, Mingyu watches as Minghao types something into his phone before feeling his own device buzz. Looking up, Minghao meets Mingyu’s eyes. Minghao’s eyes are still as dark as they were back when Mingyu was younger, but now they held something else. A little bit of adoration, as well as some excitement and fondness – all thinly masked by pretend annoyance. Yeah, Mingyu grins to himself as he looks down at his phone, he could get used to this.

**Message From:** **unknown number**  
[5:36 PM]

Are you free tomorrow?

** Message To: ** **My Hao  
** [5:37 PM]

Only if you promise not to kill me this time

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the prompt: "you constantly have near death experiences because Death has a crush on you and wants to ask you out, but constantly balks at the last second" that I saw on writingprompts Instagram account (it was on their story which is why I can't link it).
> 
> Fun fact, the line Jeonghan says (about not being important enough to be murdered) was really uttered by me to my best friend of 11 years back when we were like, 7. Apparently it actually comforted her a lot and she thought it to herself every time she was scared. Meanwhile I thought I was being a dick. I guess this is why we're still friends xD
> 
> Another fun fact, Minghao's present day outfit is basically the one he's wearing in Lilili Yabbay but in shades of black and grey. I love that song so much and the dance is all I could ever want- I could write sonnets about it, believe me. I could.
> 
>   
> Hope you're smiling!  
> 
> 
>   
> ~ alateni  
> 


End file.
